City’s Chess Champion (Part Six)

Those days of our school were having sports and arts match between classes. Of course I was installed as the first player in a chess match by my friends. I represent the class 6A. Each squad containing three players. Champion candidate was the our older students on 7B class. They have great players indeed.

One of the players who represented 7B class was Mas Pulung. Mas is a common call for the respect of the older men or boys. This is a sweet vocation in Javanese. He was a chess champion in the race for the Adolescents Group on the level of the municipality. Instead of messing around because he’s the champion. All friends of my class were hoping anxiously at me. I know, my adversaries this time was so hard, because Mas Pulung also placed as the first player to represent their class./p>

We’ve got a bye on the first play. Mas Pulung’s class just rolled up one of the classes in eighth grade with a frenzied. They were very sure that would be the first champion in chess matches at this annual sports and arts at our school. They only looked at me from the sixth grade that would be their stumbling block to go. But they still could hope from the second and third player.

In the afternoon when the chess match between my class who got the bye and the Mas Pulung class in one of the classrooms are so crowded. Nothing has spawned my class. That was considered to have more skills, just me as well. That his opponent was Mas Pulung, teen Chess Champion-level municipalities. Our class team was called upon by the Committee and asked to fill in a place that has been provided. We were herded to the place felt teammate massacre. The face of my teammate being pale. So did I.

Here’s The Circumcision’s Pain (Part Twelve)

“Fermy Nurhidayat.”

I nodded and approached the beautiful coas. Then she took me to an examination room. After having acquaintanced immediately revealed the turmoil of my heart to her. I was sobbing, my heart still be ached. This coas took a tissue out of her pocket, picked a few pieces, and handed it to me.

As I was telling the chronology of calamity event that I’ve had, it appeared that she was thinking hard. It seemed that she was considering something. Having looked doubtful for a moment, she finally said,

“I am your school’s alumni.”

“Your father obviously was my ex-teacher.”

“Who is your father’s name, kid?.”

“Mr. Toha,” I replied bluntly.

“Do you know?.”

The girl nodded. Her eyebrows arched upward. It was obvious that she was very surprised.

“I just only know that he was a good teacher”

“Everyone says that,” I barely replied.

Once completed told to the beautiful coas, She allowed me to leave the room and waiting again. This time I will be faced with a real psychiatrist. She wanted me to told to the psychiatrists as I told her as coas.

“You are allowed crying if it is necessary, kid.” she told me again. I came several times to control to Saiful Anwar Hospital afterwards. Once it was clear that my father’s attitude remains unchanged. Even after his son was facing to a psychiatrist himself because of his behavior. I stopped my visited to Saiful Anwar General Hospital.

photograph by Astungkara Wiguna